James Potter and the Curse of the Gatekeeper

14. ARTIS DECERTO

The Christmas holiday ended strangely for James. Since neither he, Rose nor Albus had gone anywhere, there was no doleful return trip. Instead, it felt as if school returned to them. On the Sunday when most of the students arrived back from their travels, James and Rose sat in a sunny window seat overlooking the courtyard. Silently, they watched bundled classmates unloading their bags and trunks, lugging them up the steps to the main entrance. The enormous snowman James, Rose, and Albus had erected was becoming soft in a sudden thaw. Its carrot nose drooped sadly and one of its stick arms had fallen off. Melting snow dripped steadily from the castle roofs and balconies. James felt rather glad that the holidays were over and looked forward to resuming classes and drama rehearsals.

Strangely enough, none of them had seen Merlin at all during the entire holiday. James had passed Professor McGonagall in the hall outside her office, and she had informed him that, as far as she knew, Merlin had spent the holiday at the castle.

"It isn't as if the Headmaster has any family, you know," she'd commented. "And one can only assume that his Christmas traditions would be rather different than ours, at any rate. Besides, Headmaster Ambrosius is a very private man, as you may have noticed. If he had any plans, I doubt he'd have told any of us."

Classes began again and James noticed that the second half of the term had a rather different tone than the first. Especially with the older students, there was a noticeably more serious attitude about homework and studies. All in all, it made James glad he was not yet old enough to participate in O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. examinations.

As Defence Against the Dark Arts classes resumed, Professor Debellows introduced techniques from a form of magical martial arts called Artis Decerto. James' attitude about such things had been rather transformed by his encounter with Salazar Slytherin on the top of the Sylvven Tower, where he'd surprised himself by putting Debellows physical defensive techniques to very good use. He paid close attention to the new moves, which looked quite a lot like dancing, but were actually a method of keeping one's body light and flexible, allowing for impressive displays of spell dodging. As an example, Debellows invited the class to form a line and make their wands ready. One by one, each student was to attempt to Disarm, Stun, or Sting Debellows. "Your choice," the professor said, grinning and hopping lightly from foot to foot.

"This is finally getting good," Trenton Bloch muttered, fingering his wand.

As the first spells began to fire, Debellows dodged them with amazing, almost effortless ease. He barely seemed to be watching the line of students. He simply glanced once as each person in the line raised their wand, then he'd turn, lunge, duck, or even pirouette, allowing the spell to flit past him harmlessly, usually missing him by mere inches. James had to admit that it was a rather amazing display, but he was determined that his spell would strike its mark. He decided he would aim directly for Debellows' feet since they, at least, were usually attached to the floor. When his turn came, James raised his wand, aimed fleetingly for Debellows chest, and then, as quickly as he could, pointed downwards and fired. Even as the spell shot from his wand, Debellows was in the air, turning lightly. James' Stunning Spell snuffed itself out on Debellows' shadow. A moment later, the big man came down on his hands and the tips of his toes, as if he was doing a push-up. With a heave and a grunt, he flung himself upright again, landing easily on his feet. Deftly, he caught his own wand, which he had lobbed upwards during his leap.

"Bluh-dee hell!" Graham Warton cried. Amazed applause rippled over the students.

Kendra Corner raised her hand. "How long before we can do that?"

"Patience, students," Debellows called, chuckling and mopping his brow with a towel. "Artis Decerto is a lifetime study. It is much more than a physical art; it is a mental discipline. It incorporates the skills of levitation, divination, and even Apparition, allowing the wizard to know when and where his opponent is going to strike and not to be there when it happens. Only the clumsiest wizard relies solely on the strength of his spells. The ablest wizard knows that if he plays the game well, he need not use spells at all."

James decided that, as unlikable as Debellows was, Artis Decerto was a technique well worth learning. He devoted himself to the practice drills and mental exercises Debellows prescribed even though they seemed hopelessly difficult and abstract.

"Know your opponent better than he knows himself," Debellows commanded. "It need not take years of study; most wizards know very little of themselves. Gauge them in an instant. Take their measure. If you succeed in this, you will always have the upper hand, for you will know what they are going to do before they do themselves. You will already be preparing your defence, and eventually, your counter-attack."

"When do we get to that part?" Trenton said, lowering his wand in frustration. "I'm sick of trying to read the other bloke's mind. I want to magic something."

"In time, Mr. er, young man," Debellows replied, waving a hand. "First, you must understand the logistics of battle. No action should be taken unless you have already foreseen the outcome. Planning and deliberation are key! Magic is but one of the choices available to the cunning wizard. At every stage of the battle, there are three options a warrior may choose. The first choice is to curse his opponent."

Kevin Murdock pointed his wand at his drill partner and mimed a Killing Curse. "Kapow! You're dead! That's what we've been waiting for," he said cheerfully.

"A wholesale and clumsy response, my friend," Debellows said. "Perhaps you'd like to try that technique on me?"

Murdock's face reddened as he remembered the way Debellows had dodged the myriad spells. He shook his head quickly, lowering his wand.

Debellows nodded once. "Good choice, boy. You have just illustrated the second option a wizard may choose in battle: to wait and watch for his opponent to make the next move. The cunning warrior will be able to exploit his opponent's action and use it against him. If any of you ever see battle, you will likely find yourselves facing an untrained and undisciplined enemy: an enemy who believes that either bravery, power, or enthusiasm will be enough to see him to victory. Get the measure of this enemy, wait for him to make his move, and know it the moment he does. If you succeed in those things, then the battle is already in your hands."

Trenton Bloch rolled his eyes, obviously unsatisfied. "What's the third option, then?"

"The third option, my friends," Debellows said, raising his eyebrows, "is to turn around and walk away."

"The third option is to retreat?" Morgan Patonia asked, frowning.

Debellows shook his head, smiling grimly. "Not at all. A true warrior never retreats. But a true warrior does know when a battle is not worth fighting. This might be because the enemy is too great, or because the enemy is too weak. Either way, there is no valor in such a battle. The sign of a true warrior, students, is knowing when not to fight."

"Inspiring stuff," Trenton muttered, unimpressed. James glanced at him, then back at Debellows. He understood Trenton's annoyance, and yet, after the duel against Salazar Slytherin in the distant past, James realized he wasn't quite as quick to dismiss Debellows' methods as he had been before.

As spring began to descend on the school grounds, Neville Longbottom started taking his Herbology classes on wandering field trips, teaching them how to identify certain magical plants and trees in the wild. The class slogged reluctantly behind as he led them along the perimeter of the Forbidden Forest and into the marshy shores of the lake.

"Many magical plants have adapted to Muggle environments by disguising themselves as something rather more innocuous," Neville called happily, kneeling by the edge of the lake. "For instance, this breed of spynuswort has acclimated to life in Muggle areas by disguising itself as stinging nettles, thus assuring no Muggles will attempt to pull it up or harvest it. You can tell the difference by the slight purple hue on the bottom of the leaf. Once the plant is pulled up, however," Neville gripped the stem and gently tugged it, drawing the root out of the wet earth, "you can see the characteristic taproot of the spynuswort plant, useful for any number of potions and elixirs."

"I'm not seeing the taproot," Ashley Doone said, examining the uprooted plant in her own hands. "Just a big root ball."

Neville looked up. "Er, that's because that particular plant, Miss Doone, is not so much spynuswort disguised as stinging nettles as it is stinging nettles disguised as, er, itself."

"Yah!" Ashley cried, dropping the plant and brushing her hands violently on her robes.

"To the hospital wing," Neville announced, sighing. "Madam Curio has a salve for repelling the stings, but you'd best hurry or you'll be smarting for hours."

Ralph and James watched Ashley bolt off toward the castle, her robes flying.

Ralph said to James, "Are we all set for Defence Club tonight?"

"I guess," James answered. "I've barely seen Scorpius since the holiday. Frankly, I think he's running out of things to teach us."

"You think so? I've learned loads of useful spells from him. That grandfather of his really must have known his stuff."

"Yeah, well, that grandfather of his was one of the worst people my dad ever knew," James replied. "Lucius Malfoy was a Death Eater. He's one of the few who never recanted either, even though old Voldy's long since dead. He's in hiding now, probably still waiting for the rise of the pureblood empire. He knew plenty of dark magic, including all three Unforgivable Curses."

Ralph shrugged. "Well, wherever Scorpius learned it from, I'm glad he did. Considering what's going on with Merlin and this Gatekeeper thing, I'm glad to learn as many curses and hexes as I can."

"I don't know," James said, lowering his voice. "I'm starting to wonder if we're going about this all wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean," James said, sighing, "what if Debellows is right about what makes a great magical fighter? What if we're spending too much time just learning curses and hexes and Disarming Spells? Maybe we should start practicing some of those Artis Decerto techniques he's been showing us."

Ralph shook his head. "I can't do stuff like that, James. Look at me. Zane was right. I'm a brick wall."

"You're no bigger than Debellows, and you saw what he did, dodging all those spells, moving like he knew exactly where every bolt was going to be. He made it look really easy!"

"Yeah, I know about things that look really easy. Turns out they aren't. He said Artis Decerto was a lifetime study."

"So what else you got planned for the rest of your life?" James asked, grinning. "You want to be great at something or what?"

Ralph smiled crookedly. "You think Scorpius can even teach us that stuff?"

"Only one way to find out," James replied, arching an eyebrow.

But neither Ralph nor James saw Scorpius for the rest of the day. As they walked to the gym for the Defence Club meeting, Rose was rather enthusiastic about using the club to practice Artis Decerto techniques.

"You know he's hardly even teaching it to the girls," she fumed. "Debellows is a first-class cretin when it comes to women in combat roles. Some of the best fighters in history have been witches! Hasn't he ever heard of Chloris the Clobberer? Or Ghia von Guggenheim? Or for that matter, Bellatrix Lestrange and the woman who defeated her, Grandma Weasley?"

"He may not have heard of Grandma Weasley," Ralph answered thoughtfully. "But you have a point."

"A woman is arguably more inclined to being good at Artis Decerto," Rose went on. "We're more graceful by nature. And more intuitive."

"Maybe you should teach it, then," James said with a straight face.

"Maybe I should," Rose replied, glaring at him.

The three turned into the gymnasium and stopped. Most of the club members were cheering and shouting, gathered in a raucous throng near the line of clockwork dummies. Green flashes lit the group, but James couldn't see where they were coming from.

James and Rose ran forward, pushing into the throng. James, being taller than Rose, saw what was happening first. The assembled students had formed a semicircle around Tabitha Corsica, Philia Goyle, and Albus. The three Slytherins were smiling happily as they fired green bolts at one of the mechanical target dummies. The dummy thrashed and writhed, spitting tiny cogs and springs, wracking loose of its frame.

"Stop it!" Rose yelled, her cheeks bright red. "What do you think you're doing? Stop it this instant!"

Tabitha whispered an incantation, shooting one more spell at the dummy, and then raised her wand easily. She turned to peer back over her shoulder at the newcomers. "Good evening, Rose, James," she said. "Is there a sign-up parchment we should attend to? We'd hate to bypass any of the necessary formalities."

"What kind of spells were those?" Rose demanded, planting her fists on her hips.

"Calm down, Rosie," Albus said, pocketing his wand. "We were just having a little fun. It's just a dummy, you know."

"You were using Killing Curses," Rose said, wheeling on Albus. "How dare you? You can't just come into this club and start using Unforgivable Curses, especially that one! You'll get us all expelled!"

"The law is rather vague when it comes to practicing Unforgivable Curses on inanimate objects, Rose," Tabitha said, smiling indulgently. "Besides, what's the point of a Defence Club if you aren't going to practice useful defensive techniques?"

"Killing someone is your idea of a defensive technique?" James spat.

Tabitha blinked at him, adopting a puzzled look. "Can you think of a more effective one?" she asked.

"She's right," Nolan Beetlebrick, one of Tabitha's fellow Slytherins, called from the crowd of students. "Debellows is a numpty. He's not teaching us anything useful. I want to learn how to fight for real."

There was a chorus of agreement.

"We hardly wish to usurp control of your club," Tabitha said, pocketing her wand. "We are here to learn, as are the rest of you."

"But if someone doesn't teach the lot of you how to do a basic Cruciatus Curse," Philia interjected, "how do you expect to deal with those who won't give a second thought to using a Killing Curse on you?"

The crowd of students babbled excitedly. "That's right," someone said. "You have to be ready to fight fire with fire!"

"Are all of you Slytherins completely daft?" a voice declared. James looked and saw Joseph Torrance push to the front of the group. "That's the way your kind have always been, isn't it? Go straight for the dark magic. You lot are just a bunch of one-trick ponies."

There was another babbled response from the crowd. A few people moved away from Joseph, as if they believed Tabitha might curse him where he stood.

"If the one trick is powerful enough," Tabitha said, smiling her most charming smile, "it might just be all a pony needs."

"That's enough of this," James called as the crowd began to get agitated. He raised his hands, turning toward the assembled club members. "We started this club, Ralph and Rose and me, and it's supposed to just be for first- through fourth-years," he said, glaring back at Tabitha and Philia. "Debellows is teaching magical defence to the older years, like those two. This club was meant to be a place where we could practice the basics of defensive magic. It was never the plan to learn any Unforgivable Curses."

"Why not?" Beetlebrick interrupted, his face stony. "Why is everyone trying to make sure we don't know how to defend ourselves?"

A chorus of agreements and arguments erupted from the crowd. James called for order, but the noise of the babble was too loud. The group seemed about to dissolve into complete chaos.

A loud crack echoed through the room, surprising everyone present. James looked up, trying to see where the crack had come from. A dissolving trail of smoke led down toward the main door where Scorpius stood, his eyes narrowed and a small smile curling his lip.

"You want to practice Unforgivable Curses, do you?" he drawled. "In case you've forgotten, I am the teacher for this club. You Slytherins are new, so I'll let it slide, but you surely wouldn't want anyone to get the impression that you were trying to take over."

Tabitha's charming smile turned decidedly sharklike as she looked at Scorpius. "So it's true, first-year Scorpius Malfoy is going to teach us everything he knows. Does that include how to be a traitor to one's family values and traditions?"

Scorpius sighed and walked into the room. "Not until next term," he answered breezily. "Although when it comes to underhanded tricks and backstabbing, I'd hate to repeat anything you lot already know. Maybe you can test out of that section."

Scorpius threaded to the center of the group, moving between Tabitha and Albus, who stared at the pale boy with unmasked disdain.

"Excuse me," Scorpius said, bumping Albus with his shoulder. He turned to face the group, pulling his wand from his cloak with a flourish. "You wish to learn the most powerful curses, do you? You wish to know how to defend yourselves, and even more, to take the fight to the enemy, is that it? Well, contrary to what you may believe, I won't stop you. We will learn such things. And I will be the one to teach them to you." Scorpius narrowed his eyes again, staring hard at James, as if daring him to argue. "I may only be a first-year, but my family tradition, as 'Tabby' has already mentioned, is rich in the deadly arts. I'll teach you just as I was taught by my father and grandfather."

"You little prat," Philia hissed. "We've been practicing defensive magic for years! What can a greasy turncoat Gryffindor like you teach us?"

"The first thing I can teach you is to shut up when the teacher is speaking," Scorpius said, turning to Philia, his face unflinching. "Outside this room, you may be a fifth-year and I may be a 'greasy turncoat Gryffindor', but in this room, you are the student and I am your instructor. Or perhaps you're having second thoughts about joining this club?"

Philia's face had gone beet red with anger. "I'll teach you to speak to me that way, you—"

"Do stop, Philia," Tabitha interrupted, amused. "Scorpius is right. This is their club. We must abide by his rules. While we are in this room. Let us see what he can teach us, since he has apparently been so well-educated."

Scorpius glared at Philia, daring her to defy Tabitha. After a moment, Philia's face hardened. She pocketed her wand and folded her arms.

"Just as I thought," Scorpius said, turning to face the gathered club members again. "First things first. You must learn to defend, parry, and Stun before you can learn to make good use of anything more powerful. Skip the basics and you will be target practice for any git with a wand. Fortunately, we are well on our way with those skills, and I can only hope that our new Slytherin friends can keep up with us. But later, once you have mastered those techniques, you will be ready… to learn this."

Scorpius spun on his heel and flung out his arm, aiming his wand at the broken clockwork dummy. "Avada Kedavra!" he roared, baring his teeth. The bolt that shot from his wand was so bright and so green that it lit the entire room. It struck the dummy in the chest, and its arms and legs flailed full length, trembling violently. Then, with a clank and a rattle, the dummy fell off its frame. It clumped to the floor in a heap.

Scorpius stared at it, his eyes slit and his teeth still bared.

Nolan Beetlebrick stepped out of the perimeter of the crowd and kicked at the dummy with his foot. A cog tumbled out of it and rolled across the floor. "Well," the boy said, nodding, "you definitely killed it."

There was a round of nervous, scattered applause. Rose looked over at James, her eyes wide and worried. Her expression seemed to ask what have we done?. James simply shook his head slowly.

"This could be better than I thought," Albus said, nudging James. "Way to go, big brother."

As they left the gym a while later, James caught up to Ralph. "What happened to you? Where were you back there?" he demanded.

Ralph glanced at James defensively. "What? I was there the whole time!"

"You didn't say a word when Tabitha and Goyle showed up and started killing the target dummies!"

"Well," Ralph replied, shrugging and walking quickly, "it looked to me like you and Rose had it under control."

"Under control? You call completely losing our grip on the club 'under control'? Scorpius is planning to teach Unforgivable Curses!"

Ralph didn't say anything as he walked. James stared at him angrily, his eyes narrowed. "You want to learn them too, don't you?" he demanded.

Ralph pressed his lips together, refusing to reply. James turned in front of him, stopping him in the hall, but Ralph spoke first.

"Don't, James," he said, dropping his eyes and shaking his head. "Look, you're my best mate in the whole school, but we come from two different worlds. You Gryffindors can be all sweet and courageous about things like the Unforgivable Curses, but frankly, yeah, it does make sense to me to learn them. I'm sorry."

James' mouth dropped open. "Ralph, there's a reason they're called 'unforgivable'. We can't even use them to fight the Gatekeeper if it comes to that! That thing isn't even human! So there's no excuse for learning them."

"Isn't there?" Ralph said. James knew Ralph hated confrontations, but the bigger boy forced himself to look James in the eye. "Are you telling me you wouldn't have used an Unforgivable Curse to stop Voldemort from killing your grandparents?"

James backed up a step, speechless. He started to reply, but Ralph went on, cutting him off. "What about when my uncle was getting ready to murder Ted Lupin's dad? Would you have used an Unforgivable Curse to stop him from doing that? Or even my own grandparents when they were driving my dad to a Muggle orphanage, telling him they didn't want him anymore, that no Squib was good enough to be their son? What if someone had been there to Imperio them, and force them to take him back home, and make them love him the way parents are supposed to love their kids? Are you telling me you'd have decided not to do it because only 'bad' people use Unforgivable Curses?"

James stammered, shocked at the quiet ferocity in Ralph's eyes. "Ralph, I… no. I mean…"

Ralph shook his head and looked away. "I can't blame you for not understanding that, James. But honestly, if using an Unforgivable Curse could bring back the people you'd thought were lost forever, wouldn't you do it? If it could return the things that were taken from you by people who were stupid and selfish and mean… wouldn't you?" Ralph looked at James again, his eyes bright. "Because I'd do it, James. I really would. Without a second thought."

With that, Ralph pushed past James and walked into the dimness of the corridor. James knew there was no point in following him, but he was frightened by the things Ralph had said. He'd never seen such passion in the big boy before, but apparently, it had been there all along, just under the surface.

Rose caught up to James, shaking her head worriedly. "We'll have to corner Scorpius in the common room," she said. "He's still back there surrounded by everybody. He's showing them how to do the Levicorpus jinx. What's the matter?"

James shook his head, still looking after Ralph. "I don't know, Rose. None of this is going the way it's supposed to. And to tell you the truth, I don't have any idea what I'm supposed to do about it."

"I'll tell you what you need to do about it, James," Rose said seriously.

James glanced at her, furrowing his brow. "And what would that be?"

"Same thing you did last year when you ran into trouble," Rose replied, arching her eyebrows. "Go ask for help from somebody who does know what to do."

By the beginning of next week, James had still not spoken to Scorpius about his speech at the last Defence Club. It wasn't that he hadn't had the opportunity; it was more that he simply didn't know what to say. James knew Scorpius only well enough to know that if he demanded Scorpius not teach Unforgivable Curses to the club, Scorpius would probably begin the next meeting with them. He considered simply removing Scorpius as teacher for the club, but the fact of the matter was that Scorpius was a fairly good teacher, and he did seem to know an awful lot.

The worst part was that James was unable to discuss the problem with Ralph since Ralph apparently wanted to learn the curses. James could sort of understand the things Ralph had said, but all the reasons Ralph had listed for learning the curses were already in the past. Learning the curses now wouldn't bring back James' grandparents or Ted's dad. Perhaps Ralph thought there were more such tragedies to come and he wanted to be prepared for them. Either way, it was worrying. Ralph had been moody and quiet ever since the conversation in the hall, and James decided it was best just to leave him alone for a while.

Fortunately, James was completely distracted from all these things for a short while during Tuesday's Care of Magical Creatures class. Hagrid led the students around to the back of the barn, shushing them and keeping them behind him with one enormous hand.

"Grawp's getting rather good at this," Hagrid whispered, "but we don't want to distract 'im. It's ticklish work, walkin' a dragon."

As the group crept around the edge of the barn, James peered past Ralph, struggling to see. In the near distance, just at the edge of the Forest, Grawp was walking very slowly, looking back over his shoulder. He seemed to have something like an iron door strapped to his left forearm like a shield. A very thick chain led from Grawp's upraised right hand, ending at a collar on Norberta's long neck. Amazingly, the dragon was ambling docilely behind Grawp, sniffing at the trees and occasionally rooting her snout into the ground, snapping at something.

"Norberta likes a nice fat mole, she does," Hagrid whispered. "And she can smell 'em right through the earth. She'd be great pest control if she didn't occasionally set the trees afire. Today's nice an' wet though, so I knew it'd be safe to give 'er a walkie."

"What happens if she flames on Grawp?" Morgan Patonia asked. "Is that what that iron door is for?"

Hagrid shook his head. "She loves Grawp even more'n me. She'd never flame 'im. The shield is just an extra safety measure. Last year, Headmistress McGonagall insisted he always wear it when he took Norberta out. S'just habit now."

Grawp tugged at the chain lead as Norberta hung back, sniffing at a tree trunk. Ponderously, she leaned against the tree and rubbed on it, as if scratching an itch. The tree shuddered and groaned, leaning noticeably.

"I wonder who'd win in a fight," Graham whispered, grinning, "the Whomping Willow or Norberta?"

"That's stupid," Ashley replied, shaking her head.

"I'd pay to see it," Graham said. "Battle of the Magical Titans. Just imagine it."

Ashley rolled her eyes. "I am imagining it, and it's stupid."

"Don't let her knock that tree over, Grawpy," Hagrid called as quietly as he could, cupping his hands to his mouth. "That's a Grimlock Elm. Not many of 'em left!"

Grawp tugged harder on the chain lead, but Norberta was stubborn. She rapped her tail on the hillside in annoyance, producing a perceptible shudder in the earth. She seemed to be sniffing at something just inside the perimeter of the trees. She clawed at the ground, pulling Grawp and pushing the trees apart with her massive shoulders. She snorted a small burst of yellow flame.

"What's she after?" Hagrid asked worriedly. "Er, maybe yeh lot should head back around the barn again. Just for safety's sake."

None of the students obeyed. Instead, they pushed forward, curious to see what was happening, although none ventured in front of Hagrid himself.

"Easy, Grawpy!" Hagrid called in a strangely small voice. "Not too hard! Give her just a little slack. We don't want to make her mad now. What the—"

Something small and yellow had suddenly flown out of the trees, as if frightened by Norberta's rooting. It fluttered between her legs and arced up, streaking into the grey sky.

"Oh no," Hagrid said in a worried voice. "I wondered where she'd got to."

With a violent, serpentine lunge, Norberta spun, her entire body trailing behind her head and her open, snapping jaws. Grawp was yanked entirely off his feet, refusing to let go of the chain. He landed with an enormous, muddy thump and slid along the wet grass, pulled by Norberta's wild thrashing.

"Everybody inside!" Hagrid yelled, shooting out both arms protectively. "It's a Wargle I got from Viktor Krum, and Norberta's just daft about it. It got loose a few days ago, but I figured it'd be halfway back to Bulgaria by now. Grawp! Hold 'er down! Don' let go, no matter what!"

The ground shuddered as Norberta thundered after the yellow creature, pulling Grawp along behind her. Great muddy streaks tore up the hillside in their wake. None of the students had budged. James stared at the spectacle, wide-eyed, unsure if it was amusing or frightening. The Wargle was about the size of a cat but canary yellow and with four fluttering wings. A long, tufted tail trailed behind it, whipping the air. James thought the creature looked almost impossibly cute. Norberta thrashed and leapt, snapping her jaws wildly, barely missing the fluttering, swooping shape. Thumping along behind, Grawp was heroically pulling himself up the chain, trying to reach Norberta's neck.

"That's it, Grawpy," Hagrid cheered, beginning to trot uncertainly out onto the hilltop. "I'll grab 'er tail if I can. You get 'er by the neck! Oh!"

The Wargle suddenly angled upwards, streaking into the sky beyond Norberta's reach. With a massive flourish, the dragon unfurled her wings and brought them down with a single, thunderous thrust. She leapt off the ground, roaring and pulling Grawp with her.

"I thought she couldn't fly!" Graham exclaimed. The students began to shuffle nervously backwards, moving toward the relative shelter of the barn.

As if sensing a hiding place, the Wargle arced downwards again, angling toward the crowd of students. Norberta thrashed her wings and lunged. She was amazingly fast for her size despite her injured wing. Students scattered in all directions as her shadow darkened the sky overhead. Hagrid ran back and forth, arms outstretched, as if he meant to catch the enormous dragon.

"Hold on, Grawp!" he called to his half-brother, who swung gamely from the chain lead, leaving a trail of mud gobbets. "You've got 'er! Don' let go!"

Norberta roared again, struggling to stay airborne. Her tail thrashed as she flapped, striking the chimney of the barn and obliterating it to flying bits of stone. The Wargle circled in a panic. Finally, the yellow creature seemed to sense that Norberta couldn't properly fly. It swooped upwards, aiming for the distant clouds.

"Grawp!" Hagrid called suddenly. "Shield! She's going to flame!"

Norberta gave one last thrust of her massive wings, stretched out her long neck, and roared. This time, the roar produced a long stream of blue-white flame. Heat blasted out over the hilltop. James felt it ripple through his hair. And then, with a reverberating thump, the dragon landed on all four claws. Grawp came down right next to her. He was covered in mud and bits of grass, but he instantly leapt up and threw his arms around the great dragon's neck, holding her down. The dragon didn't seem prepared to attempt flight again. She raised her head full length, jaws wide open. A moment later, a small black shape tumbled out of the sky, trailing smoke. It fell straight into Norberta's gullet and she swallowed audibly.

Hagrid shook his head. "Shame 'bout that," he said. "Wargles is hard to come by. I warned 'er, I did. Ah well, so long as nobody's hurt. Grawpy, are yeh all right, then?"

Grawp tentatively let go of the dragon's neck, and stepped away, still holding the chain lead. He glanced back at Hagrid. "Grawp got mud in nose," he said ponderously.

"Sorry 'bout that, Grawpy. Let's go ahead and put the old girl back in 'er pen, eh?" He turned back to the students, his face red and imploring. "It's prob'ly best if we, er, kep' that between ourselves, if yeh don' mind."

James glanced aside at Trenton, who had earlier threatened to write his parents about Hagrid's rather frightening menagerie.

"That," Trenton said, noticing James' look, "was totally bloody awesome."

As James and Ralph were heading back from the barn, they passed the greenhouses where Professor Longbottom's first-year Herbology class was just letting out. James spied Scorpius.

"I'll see you at lunch, Ralph," James called as he trotted away. "Places to go, people to see."

Ralph didn't reply, and James knew why. The bigger boy knew what James was up to. Scorpius heard James coming and stopped, turning back.

"I wondered when I'd be hearing from you, Potter," he said, staring up at the low clouds.

"Yeah, well, I wanted to talk to you about Defence Club."

"Of course," Scorpius smiled thinly. "Come to talk me out of teaching the hardcore spells, did you?"

"Actually, no," James replied. "I've been thinking about it. I can't stop you from showing people what you learned from your family, and besides, if people don't learn those things from you, they'll learn them from Corsica and Goyle. I came to you because…"

James couldn't quite bring himself to say it. He knew Rose's advice had been right, but he just hadn't known when or where he was supposed to use it. Now he did. Finally, he took a deep breath and said through gritted teeth, "I came to ask for your help."

"My help?" Scorpius replied suspiciously. "With what?"

"With getting Tabitha and the rest under control," James answered. "Look, you know it even better than me. They don't want to learn jinxes and hexes and curses to fight the bad guys. They just want to use them to be bullies and get power over people. The Defence Club was supposed to be a way for people to learn basic fighting spells and techniques, but I think it can be even more than that. I think we can use it to practice the things Professor Debellows is teaching us about how to be real fighters. We can practice the Artis Decerto techniques he's showing us and get really good at them. Then we can put those skills together with the spells we've already learned, and later, when everyone is ready to know how to use them…," James gulped, "you can teach the Unforgiveable Curses, if you still want to."

"Let's see if I understand this," Scorpius said. "You started the Defence Club because you didn't like the fact that Debellows wasn't teaching any defensive magic. And now you want to turn the club into a place to practice the silly stuff that he is teaching us?"

James sighed. "Yeah, all right, you make it sound totally stupid. But that's pretty much the truth of it. Either way, if Corsica and Goyle and even Albus keep coming to the club and killing the target dummies, they're just going to push for the Unforgivable Curses and bypass everything else. Maybe some people can handle knowing the Unforgivable Curses, but not everybody can. And definitely not without learning the basics first."

"So kick them out," Scorpius shrugged. "You run the club. You decide who's in it. It isn't my problem."

"I can't just kick them out," James said, exasperated. "Anybody who wants to come to the club can. But you know how to talk to them! It was totally brilliant the way you handled them last club meeting. Your family understands the way Slytherins think! I need you to help keep them from taking over."

Scorpius narrowed his eyes. "Just because my father convinced me to help get you through the Mirror of Erised, doesn't mean I'm your mate, Potter. I teach your club because I want to, not because you asked. Who are you to decide who gets to know the Unforgivable Curses or not?"

James stared at Scorpius thoughtfully. "I don't think you even believe that yourself," he said. "You're just trying to make me mad at you, and I don't even know why. If you thought everyone who wished should be able to learn the Killing Curse, you'd have taught it last class, or let Corsica and Goyle do it. Instead, you spent your time distracting everybody with stuff like the Levicorpus jinx. Admit it or not, you agree with me, Scorpius."

"You're delusional, Potter," Scorpius said, turning on his heel. "Why would I agree with you?"

"Because," James called, watching the pale boy walk away, "you're also a Gryffindor. And I think the Sorting Hat knew what it was doing."

Scorpius didn't stop. He simply continued to walk away, heading toward the castle. James watched for a moment, then sighed and followed. He could only hope that despite Scorpius' attitude, he'd at least think about what James had asked.

Eventually, Albus told James how it had happened.

Thursday evening came and Tabitha, Philia, and Albus were on their way to the gym for Defence Club. While they were still several corridors away, Scorpius met them coming from the other direction.

"Just turn around and walk with me," he said in a low voice, trying to put his arms around both Tabitha and Albus.

"Remove your hand or pick it up wherever it lands," Tabitha said, pointing her wand at Scorpius' wrist.

"Touchy, touchy," Scorpius replied, pulling his hands away. "And here I am trying to help you."

Albus scoffed. "As if we needed your help, you prat."

"Believe it or not, I am indeed saving you a bit of bother," Scorpius growled, looking Albus in the eye. "Your brother's little club is about to be disbanded, and I don't expect it will go well for those who are in attendance when it happens."

Philia's face was etched with suspicion. "What do you mean?"

"Some concerned individual has alerted Professor Debellows that students are being taught defensive magic and curses, all in an effort to undermine his teaching technique. They also allowed it to slip that some students have even been seen practicing the Killing Curse."

Tabitha studied Scorpius' face. "How perfectly devious. But tell me, why would you do such a thing?"

"Did I say it was me?" Scorpius asked innocently.

"He's lying," Albus said. "He wouldn't do that to his housemates."

"You might want to step aside a moment," Scorpius said, glancing down the corridor. Voices were approaching quickly. Debellows stalked around the corner, herding Rose ahead of him. She looked extremely worried.

"So you and James Potter are responsible for this, eh?" Debellows said gruffly. "He's the son of the Ministry's Head Auror, is he not? I should have known he'd be trouble. I understood that there were three of you, though."

"Well," Rose quavered, "there are, in a manner of speaking. I guess there's no point in hiding it anymore. You'll see for yourself soon enough."

As Debellows and Rose passed Scorpius, she gave him a wilting look. Scorpius grinned crookedly.

As they swept on, Albus glared angrily at Scorpius. "Why would you do that to my brother?"

"Is this how you repay me for my warning? I guess blood is indeed thicker than water, isn't it?"

"Why, Scorpius?" Tabitha asked. "You're only making things harder for yourself with your housemates."

"My housemates are a bunch of arrogant sissies," Scorpius growled. "They don't have the spine to learn real magic. It became obvious to me last week that you lot are the ones I need to partner with. Yes, yes," he said, raising his hand as Philia opened her mouth, "I'm a Gryffindor. What do names mean? If names meant everything, little Albus would have to duel to the death with both of you. Slytherins and Potters have always been mortal enemies, haven't they? Obviously, we're past that, and for good reason. I'm not asking to be a member of your silly Fang and Talons club. I am merely suggesting that perhaps we start a new club, and perhaps it meet in the Slytherin casting range, where we can feel free to practice whatever we wish in secrecy."

"And you'd deign to teach us?" Philia demanded, smiling grimly.

"I think not," Scorpius answered. "The fact is I'd not be able to attend regularly. Besides, I imagine it as more a group practice session. We can all learn from one another, and no one will be there to tell us what we shouldn't know. I would, however, require access to the Slytherin quarters. It seems like small payment for today's favor. Besides, as you implied last week, Tabitha, my family does have a rather long Slytherin history."

"You little rat," Philia said. "All this just because you hate that you've been made a Gryffindor."

"Having a ring key does not make you a member of Slytherin House," Tabitha said, tilting her head and smiling. "No Gryffindor can be allowed free access to our quarters. However… I suspect we can come to an agreeable arrangement."

"That's all I ask," Scorpius answered brightly. "And now I should be running along. It will look rather suspicious if I am not there when the hammer falls on James' little club. We'll chat soon."

Tabitha, Philia, and Albus watched Scorpius turn and trot off in the direction that Debellows had led Rose.

A few minutes later, Scorpius passed the closed doorway of the gymnasium. He could see through the pebbled glass window that it was dark inside. He stopped and listened. A moment later, he heard voices further down the corridor, echoing. He followed the sounds, turning left at the next passage. It opened onto a high hall with windows on one side. James and Rose stood with Debellows in the center of the marble floor. They were all staring straight up, craning their necks. Debellows had his wand upraised, aiming it carefully. Overhead, Ralph hung by his ankle, suspended high in midair.

"We were just trying it out," James explained. "It's called the Levicorpus jinx. I didn't know it'd take a counter-jinx to get him back down again."

"Hold on, Ralph!" Rose cried, wringing her hands in a parody of worry.

Debellows shook his head disgustedly. "This is exactly the reason I do not teach defensive magic to younger years," he snapped. "No concept whatsoever of the consequences. It's a good thing you didn't accidentally learn the Bat-Bogey Hex. That was a favorite in my day. Liberacorpus!" Debellows flicked his wand and Ralph spun upright. A moment later, he drifted clumsily to the floor.

"Whoa," Ralph said shakily. "Dizzy."

"I apologize, Professor Debellows," Scorpius called from the doorway. "It's my fault. I learned that jinx from my grandfather. I should've known better than to show anyone how to do it. I've certainly learned my lesson."

"I should hope so," Debellows said gruffly. "If I was a less gracious man, I'd subtract points from whatever your houses are, but I'll take your word for it that it'll never happen again." He pocketed his wand and turned to Rose. "You interrupted a perfectly good pipe, I'll have you know, young lady. But never mind. Are there any other magical mishaps I might address before I return to my quarters?"

All four students shook their heads enthusiastically.

"Thank you, Professor," Rose said breathlessly. "It really is a pleasure to see someone of your stature at work."

"Well," Debellows replied, smoothing his robes, "of course, I understand. Good evening, students. And like I said, don't call me 'Professor'. The name's Kendrick."

"Kendrick," Rose said, as if enthralled with the very syllables. "Thank you, sir. Goodnight."

When Debellows finally left, Scorpius came alongside Rose, James, and Ralph. "I think I'm going to be sick," he said.

"I'll say," Ralph agreed. "You were supposed to act appreciative, Rose. Not like you worshipped the ground under his feet."

"It was nothing," Rose replied as if she'd been complimented. "I mastered that technique years ago with my father."

James grinned. "You're a little scary, Rose. Come on! Let's get to the gym. Scorpius, how'd it go with Tabitha, Philia, and Albus?"

"As well as planned," Scorpius said, shrugging. "They believed my story the moment they saw Debellows march past. They won't be back."

James reached the door to the gym first. He yanked it open and stepped inside, lighting his wand. In the darkness, the club members sat in groups, whispering excitedly. They looked up as the four entered.

"All right," James said, holding his wand over his head. "Hi, everybody. Like I said a few minutes ago, we have an announcement today. After last week, there was a lot of talk about learning the three Unforgivable Curses. Scorpius is the teacher, so what we learn is up to him. But before we get to anything really scary powerful, we're going to get better at what we do know, and spend some time practicing the techniques Professor Debellows has been showing us in D.A.D.A."

"Why in the world would we do that?" Nolan Beetlebrick said, standing up. "I thought the whole point of this club was to learn the stuff he wasn't teaching us."

Scorpius answered, "The point of this club is to learn defensive techniques and become the best at them as we can. Some of you just want to learn a few quick incantations and curses? Be my guest. But if you think you'll be able to duel half as well as the rest of us after we've mastered the kind of skills Debellows showed us the other day, I think you'll end up very disappointed."

Ralph surprised James by speaking up. "I know it isn't very exciting to practice all the drills and exercises Debellows has showed us. That's why we're going to keep working on the spells and magic too. But James is right. We have to learn it all together. It's the only way we'll really be the best we can be. But maybe some of you aren't happy with that. If so, remember it's just a club, not a class. You can go anytime you want."

Nolan Beetlebrick was still on his feet. He saw that everyone was looking at him. He shuffled his feet a little. "So who's going to be teaching us this Artis Decerto stuff? Him?" he exclaimed, pointing at Scorpius. "I doubt his grandfather taught him any of that."

"No," James said, glancing at Scorpius. "We have another teacher for that. He didn't learn it himself, but he'll be working alongside someone who knows it very well. Together, they'll be leading that part of the club from now on."

"Yeah?" Beetlebrick said, putting his hands on his hips. "And who's that?"

"Me," a voice answered. Beetlebrick jumped and took a step backwards as two ghosts flitted through the wall next to him. "And her."

James smiled as Cedric moved into the center of the room, emanating his own soft light in the dark space. Next to him, the Grey Lady floated gently.

Beetlebrick sat down on the floor again, staring in awe at Cedric and the tall, pale woman.

Rose cleared her throat. "Maybe it'd be helpful if you explained a little background, Cedric."

Cedric glanced back at Rose and nodded. "Of course," he said to the assembled club members. "I'm Cedric Diggory, and I guess you all know who she is. This is the Grey Lady. She says she'd prefer that I not tell any of you her real name. But the point is she knows Artis Decerto. Apparently, it was common for ladies to learn the defensive arts in her time, and… well, her mother thought it might be very helpful for her to be very well-trained."

The Grey Lady spoke in a thin, faraway voice. "I was tutored under the very best teacher of martial magic in the world. He confided that I was one of his most gifted pupils."

Most of those in the room had seen the Grey Lady flitting morosely around the halls, but few had ever heard her voice. Graham Warton raised his hand tentatively. "Who was it that taught you Artis Decerto, Miss?"

The Lady looked at him and tilted her head slightly. "My father. He invented the art."

"Look," Beetlebrick said, "I don't mean any disrespect, but I have to ask. If you were all that great at dodging spells and curses like Debellows did the other day, then how did you end up getting killed so young?"

The Grey Lady seemed unperturbed by Beetlebrick's question. She opened her ghostly shawl, revealing the front of her dress. An ugly knife wound stained the dress, still as red as the day it had been inflicted. "As you can see," she answered, "it wasn't a spell that killed me."

James leaned toward Rose. "You've got your wish, Rose," he whispered. "We've got a woman teaching us Artis Decerto after all."

"I'm really enjoying the new stuff we're learning in Defence Club, James," Cameron Creevey said as he followed James down the stairs late Saturday morning. "Whoever would have thought that the Grey Lady had a seventh-degree mastery of martial magic! She always seemed so calm and feeble, didn't she? And with Cedric Diggory's ghost helping her teach, I mean, wow! Who would have thought it!"

"Yeah, Cameron," James said, walking as fast as he could. "I'm glad you like the club."

They passed a group of older students by the main doors, all of whom were dressed in jeans and jumpers or jackets, babbling excitedly. Professor McGonagall stood at the head of the queue, accepting and inspecting the small parchments each student handed her.

"Yes, yes, Mr. Metzker, no point in making a show of it," she said as Noah flourished his permission slip. "Off you go. And if I catch you with any more of those awful Peruvian ballistic beans, it'll be more than deducted House points, I can assure you. Who's next?"

"Pity you can't come, James," Damien called as James pushed past the queue, heading out into the courtyard. "Hogsmeade weekends being only for third-years and older, you know." He waggled his eyebrows and grinned. Sabrina elbowed him in the stomach.

"I wish I could go to Hogsmeade," Cameron said wistfully, staring after the departing students. "Still, I'm sure there's a very good reason younger years can't go."

"Yeah," James said, stopping at the courtyard gate and turning to the younger boy. "Well, anyway, Cameron, I'm sure you have other things to do today. Don't let me keep you."

Cameron shook his head happily. "No, actually, I don't have a thing to do. I was sort of hoping that—"

"James!" Rose called, panting as she ran across the courtyard to meet him. "Ralph's coming. He insisted on borrowing a Sneakoscope from Trenton Bloch, the blighter. That warning from Zane's sure got him on high alert, especially today, since… er. Hi, Cameron."

"Hi, Rose," Cameron grinned cheerfully. "What's going on?"

Rose glanced at James, frowning a little. "Oh. What? Nothing. You know. Saturday this-and- that. Same as usual. Boring, really."

"What's your friend Ralph need a Sneakoscope for?"

James put his arm around Cameron, trying to steer him back toward the front entrance. "You know, Cameron, today would be a great day to practice up on some drills and exercises. The gym's open all day. I bet you could even find some other club members to join you."

"Well, why don't you three join me?" Cameron said, ducking under James' arm. "Since you don't have any plans yourselves."

Rose cleared her throat. "It isn't that we don't have any plans exactly, Cameron. They're just, er…"

"Secret," James interjected, at exactly the same moment that Rose said, "Boring."

"Secret, er, boring plans," James went on, nodding. "Club stuff. Scheduling and counting members and… and…"

"And planning field trips!" Rose added, brightening.

"We're going to go on a Defence Club field trip?" Cameron asked, furrowing his brow.

"Sure," James replied. "It's a secret, so keep it to yourself. But we're going to go to, er…"

"Er," Rose chimed, "the Forbidden Forest, with Hagrid, to practice Artis Decerto against some…"

"Some centaurs!" James supplied. He nodded. "Yeah, that sounds about right."

Cameron looked vaguely puzzled. "Centaurs know Artis Decerto?"

"Sure," Rose said confidently. "They practically invented it. I mean, they didn't really invent it, obviously, but practically… Anyway, it's a big secret, so don't tell anyone about it yet, all right?"

"Hey, everybody," Ralph said as he approached, shouldering his satchel. "We're all ready to go—"

"To Hagrid's," James interrupted, nodding at Ralph fervently. "To talk about the field trip. Yeah, I suppose he'll be expecting us any minute. So, anyway, see you around, Cameron."

Cameron looked at James, Rose, and Ralph in succession, his eyes slightly narrowed, then he smiled cheerfully. "Yeah! Sure. I'll keep it a secret. I've never seen a centaur in person. That'll be excellent!"

"Centaurs?" Ralph said, turning to James. "You never said anything about—"

"Cool!" James interrupted. "Yeah, thanks, Cam. Hush-hush, right? See you later."

Cameron nodded and backed away. Finally, he turned and headed back toward the castle entrance.

"What in the world was all that about?" Ralph asked as the three students ran around the corner of the gate.

"James' secret admirer," Rose said. "We had to come up with something fast so he wouldn't tail us around all day."

"Do you think you can remember the secret knot?" James asked, changing the subject.

Rose answered, "Gennifer marked it with a spot of green paint. It looks like moss unless you get up close. Should be pretty easy to find if you know what to look for."

As they crested the hill and came in sight of the Whomping Willow, James found a long stick beneath a birch. He smiled, showing it to Ralph and Rose. Rose nodded seriously.

"You're on secret knot duty, then, James," she said. "Just give it a good poke. We'll follow you into the entrance between the roots once the Willow goes still."

James gripped the stick and approached the tree. The Willow seemed to sense his intent. It reared slightly, creaking its roots, and whipping its thinnest branches threateningly.

"Stay low," Ralph called. "You'll need to get just inside the shadow of the tree to reach the knot. The big branches can't reach you, but those little green ones might if you're too high."

James hunkered as low as he could until he was crawling forward on his hands and knees. The tree swished and groaned over him. A whip-like green branch swung at him, trying to wrench the stick out of his hand. It missed, but James felt the breeze of its passage.

"Careful," Rose cried in a thin voice. "Just right there! Slowly!"

James reached as far as he could, staring down the length of the stick at its wavering tip. He could see the spot of green paint applied earlier in the term by Gennifer Tellus. This close up, he could see that she'd painted it in the shape of a tiny smiley face. The Whomping Willow creaked ponderously and James felt its shadow leaning over him. He lunged and poked with the stick, striking the knot dead-on.

"That's it!" Rose cried. James heard both Ralph and Rose running forward. He scrambled up, slipping on the wet grass. Clumsily, he hurled himself forward into the dark crack between the Willow's massive roots. He landed with a thud in the mossy hollow beneath the tree. A moment later, he heard and felt the entrance of Ralph and Rose. They landed on either side of him, barely missing him in the damp darkness. James laughed in relief. He began to climb to his feet when a fourth shape hurtled through the entrance, bowling directly into James. A knee bounced off his chest, knocking the wind out of him. There was a chorus of angry and surprised shouts.

"What the—" Ralph cried, scrambling up and snatching after the intruder. He caught the figure by the collar just as Rose whipped out her wand.

"Lumos!" she cried, holding it up.

The wandlight sprayed over the skinny shape of Cameron Creevey, held suspended by Ralph's grip. The boy had dirt and bits of bark on his face. He grinned gamely.

"Hi, guys," he said, panting. "Some field trip, eh?"